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Anthony St Clair

Home Sweet Road

Synopsis

For centuries the Awen's duty has passed from woman to woman: guard the three relics from those who would control the world. But no threat has come to Aisling's hostel door at Ireland's western edge, and the newest Awen has yet to prove herself. Then Jay and Tiran arrive shortly after a more powerful relic has vanished from The Blast Memorial in the ruins of Galway. Now Aisling wonders who she can trust: her mentor Jake Connemara, or the two travelers she both suspects and is drawn to. The time of Aisling's test has come. If the Awen fails, one of these men will bring the world to a terrible fate.
HOME SWEET ROAD is a captivating page-turner in Anthony St. Clair's Rucksack Universe. If you like Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, or Octavia Butler, you'll love this ongoing fantasy series of globetrotting intrigue.

Author Biography

Fantasy author and beer writer Anthony St. Clair has walked with hairy coos in the Scottish Highlands, choked on seafood in Australia, and watched the full moon rise over Mt. Everest in Tibet. The creator of the Rucksack Universe series, Anthony has traveled the sights and beers of Thailand, Japan, India, Canada, Ireland, the USA, Cambodia, China and Nepal. He and his wife live in Eugene, Oregon, and gave their kids passports when they were babies. Learn more at www.anthonystclair.com.

Author Insight

Sibling rivalry when you're not actually siblings

Aisling grew up around three people: her mysterious grandmother, the itinerant and intriguing Faddah Rucksack, and the kind bartender, Jake Connemara.
In his work for the The Management, Jake has many tasks, and his little outpost pub at the western edge of Ireland is actually one of the most important places in the world. His favorite duty though, the one he considers the most crucial to his time as a Jake, is to help an orphaned girl feel safe and at home. Over the years Jake and Aisling become as brother and sister, and help each other a great deal.
That's not to say there isn't some sibling rivalry though.
Their dynamic changes when Aisling becomes the Awen of Ireland. Suddenly, Jake must also serve a role of mentor and guide—which annoys the hell out of Aisling sometimes. She wants to find her own way, trust her own self, and she wants Jake to trust her more too.
She's got the world on her shoulders in ways he doesn't know—and she's determined that he understand she's up for the job.

Book Excerpt

Home Sweet Road

They now stood inches from each other. “Are you even listening to yourself right now, Aisling? You sound like a teenager,” Jake said. “I thought I’d be talking with the Awen of Ireland about the biggest threat to the relics in decades.”

“You are.”

“Really? Then how about you try trusting me. Goodness knows your grandmother did.”

“I’m not Grandmother.”

“Neither of us expected you to be,” Jake said, his face reddening and his eyes narrowing. “But we would’ve thought you’d keep your head when it mattered.”

“Who the hell are you to criticize me?”

“I’m not saying Jay’s without suspicion,” said Jake. “I’m saying we can’t rule Tiran out. He doesn’t add up. He’s hiding something. I wish I could get another look at him so I could read his potential destinies, but curiously enough I can never seem to get near the man.”

“It makes sense to me. He fits everything we’ve heard. It’s probably also why The Management told me I wasn’t to influence him. What’s happening with his destiny right now is something that we can’t interfere with.”

“I’m betting it’s gone to his head. He’s gotten grandiose notions. And who knows what we haven’t been hearing. Have you thought about that? How in the hell can you let him stay here?”

“The Management only said I couldn’t influence him.” Jake grinned. “They didn’t say anything about refusing hospitality to a man who’s been sleeping in doorways for a week. I’m not a man to forget his manners.”

“Didn’t think you were a man at all.”

“I’m trying to help you, Aisling,” Jake said. “Please. See clearly.”

“I am seeing clearly,” Aisling replied. “And you know what? I’m the bloody Awen of Ireland. Not you. You’re always telling me what to do, always poking your nose in. I don’t care that Grandmother confided in you. But I no longer need you to be my self-appointed mentor. Do your feckin job, Jake Connemara. But from now on, stay out of my way so I can do mine.”

Before he could say anything else, Aisling turned and went down the stairs, out into a misty morning that felt colder than it had when she’d first gone inside.